Selfish
by the lights of paris
Summary: A phone call in the dead of the night after a missed birthday party. Apology on the edge of the tongue. Hearts beating faster. "Sorry," He never says sorry. Never. She smiles, the words rolling off of her tongue easily, "What's my present? You better make it special." CB ONESHOT. Set during 2x1O.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Selfish.

**Summary: **A phone call in the dead of the night after a missed birthday party. Apology on the edge of the tongue. Hearts beating faster. "Sorry," He never says sorry. Never. She smiles, the words rolling off of her tongue easily, "What's my present? You better make it special." CB ONESHOT. Set during 2x1O.

**Authors Note:** This is set somewhere around 2x1O. I'm always pissed we didn't see Chuck during Blair's party so here's a phone call set during that time.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything as always.

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"Hi,"

"You missed my birthday." The voice shot through the phone, cold and calculating and _hurt_. He sighed on the other end, running a finger through his hair.

"I know," He sighed. He really wished he hadn't missed it. He regretted it but he had gotten so caught up in the whole mess with his father and humpty-dumpty.

"Are you going to tell me why? I turned _eighteen_, Bass." Her voice was cold and _hurtful_. His heart ached because she was giving to much away. She cared that he hadn't been able too show. He gulped down the lump in his throat, getting ready to say something that was _very _hard for him.

"Sorry." Blair goes silent on the other end, a grin stretching across her face."

"What's my present? You better make it special." The words roll of her tongue easily. Chuck rolls her eyes, of course she was thinking about what gift he had brought her.

"Oh, it's very special indeed," He leered. Even over the phone, Blair shook her head. The grin never wiping off of her face.

"I guess you could bring it over now?" She asked hopefully. His heart dropped too his stomach, the rare smile he had been sporting before falling off of his face.

"I can't," She swore her heart stopped. He had missed her party and wasn't even going to bother too bring over a present for her? Who was more important then her? If it was some skank he had picked up at a bar she swore she would murder him, "I'm going to see a game of hockey with Bart," He proudly told her. The smile reappearing on his face growing wider.

"OHMYGOD CHUCK!" She screamed, her hand clamping over her mouth. She didn't want Dorota to hear and think she and Chuck had rekindled because they _hadn't_, she thought sourly.

"Blair, as much as I _love _to hear you screaming my name, it's not that big of a deal." He shrugged casually, walking over too his bed and flopping down onto it, checking his watch quickly. Bart would be pounding on his door any minute now. He sighed, he didn't want to end the phone call with Blair. He hadn't seen her recently, he had but he had felt different, he _missed _her. Not that he would _ever _admit that

"Chuck, this is a big deal. We both know it is." She whispered, blushing, because when they were together in Junior Year they had talked about Bart and even before that, they had talked about Bart and Chuck never opened up too anybody about Bart.

"Look, Blair, maybe I could drop by later? After the game?" He asked hopefully, he wanted too see her. He _really _wanted too see her. She lighted up at the thought.

"Only if you bring my present!" She exclaimed excitedly. He let out a laugh, a _real _laugh. It wasn't forced for pleasantries.

"I promise to bring it," He promised sincerely, reaching towards his drawers and pulling them open. He stared at the box for a few minutes before pulling it out and resting it on his lap.

"Any hints too what it is?" Blair questioned him, crawling onto her bed and slipping underneath the covers.

"Maybe," He teased, his eyes lifting up too his door as Bart entered. He sat up and pushed Blair's present too the edge of the bed.

"Look, Blair, I'll see you later. Happy Birthday," She smiled and mumbled a thanks and then her phone cut off. She sighed and laid it next too her, curling up on her side. Chuck could wake her up when he got in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Selfish

**Summary: **A phone call in the dead of the night after a missed birthday party. Apology on the edge of the tongue. Hearts beating faster. "Sorry," He never says sorry. Never. She smiles, the words rolling off of her tongue easily, "What's my present? You better make it special." CB ONESHOT. Set during 2x1O.

**Authors Note: **I would like to dedicate this too Moozanna for asking me -_begging_ me- too write another chapter bit too it. I wasn't planning too but I couldn't help it because I felt so bad if I hadn't done it but I do prefer this as a oneshot. I actually don't like this very much at all but _oh well. _I actually realized half way through that Chuck went to see the hockey game with Bart _after_ the party or whatever. OK, so the gift isn't very-Blair like, at all and they are actually worn by Serena Van Der Woodsen in "They shoot humphrey's don't they". OMG, I actually don't like this and I just wanted to post it, so the end is awful.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, of _course_.

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He's just spent what he would deem a wonderful evening with Bart. He sneers as the words race inside his mind and pick up the box laid out on his bed, meant for Blair Waldorf. His smile brightens thinking about the petite brunette. He was sad he had missed Blair's party, she knew how to throw a good _society _party and she's one of his oldest _friends._ Yes friends, that's what they were. All they would be because they are better at being friends then lovers. He tucks the box under his arm and exists his room, running into Serena clad only in a short purple nightgrown that reaches her thighs. Chuck stops in his tracks and gives his step-sister an appreciative once over.

"Looking lovely this evening, Sis," He leered, his eyes oogling her body. To be honest it wasn't all that great, once upon a time he would of loved too fuck Serena but it wasn't because she was smoking hot but because she was Serena fucking Van Der Woodsen. Now the thought only made him sick too his stomach. He blamed the fact that they were now step-siblings but to be honest, that wouldn't stop him, it's Blair that's stopping him.

"Your disgusting, Chuck." She remarks before pushing past him and heading towards the kitchen. He didn't spare the long legged blonde another glance before he slid into the elevator, his fingers drumming against the box and just before the doors closed, Serena appeared, her lips set in a thin line. A finger pointing directly at him.

"If you hurt her, again, I will make it my personal mission too kill you with my own bare hands," She told him seriously, he sent her off with a confident smirk before the elevator fell down too the lobby. Her words replaying in his mind over and over, _again. _If you hurt her, _again._ Serena had ruined his night and he had to admit it had been pretty damn fine before hand. He and Bart had bonded, really, truly bonded and now the blonde bitch had to go make him feel like shit.

He was considering running off, finding some club, drinking away his fears, getting cosying with some pretty girls but decided against it. _If you hurt her, again._ He hadn't wanted to hurt her once, he didn't want to hurt her any more then he already had but that would mean saying goodbye for good. The doors opened up and he slid out of them, his smirk returning back too his face. He swaggered outside, and Arthur opened up the door too his limo. He got inside, running his hands over the leather seats and shutting his eyes. Memories of all the nights shared with Blair, running through his mind. Her body underneath him, her body ontop of him, her legs thrown around his waist -

"Were here, Mr. Bass." Arthur told his employer, breaking Chuck out of his thoughts. He thanked Arthur - something he _rarely_ ever did - but he was raised to be a gentlemen and hoped out. Into the chilly night air, he didn't bother rubbing his hands up and down his arms like some stupid brooklynite would do and he didn't race inside. He took his time entering Blair's lobby, his mind betraying him and letting him think about entering Blair's _body_ instead. He shook the thought out of his mind, they were friends, that was all and entered another elevator. This one taking him up to Blair's penthouse.

When he reached the penthouse, Dorota was there, ready too greet him. She looked at him with a frown upon her face, she had never approved of him. He gave her a small smile and squeezed past her, making his way up too Blair's room. He opened the door softly and slid inside, biting his lip to hold back from laughing as he saw Blair's sleeping form. Chuck padded over towards Blair and sat down on the end of her bed, near her feet. She turned softly, her back turning towards the wall, her face turning towards Chuck. He grinned, as he brushed back some of her hair. He looked at her for a few seconds, memorizing every feature on her face. He had missed her and he hated to admit it because they had dated so briefly, so shortly and then she had turned to hating him with a fiery passion and then he had her for a week, a wonderful week and then he had fucked it all up. He sighed, leaned over and lightly shook her awake. Her eyes fluttered open, he grinned, at least that hadn't changed. She was still a light sleeper, as soon as she spotted him her face lit up with excitement and glee and then vanished as quickly as it came as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You're here." She states, moving into a sitting position, bringing the blanket up with her. He nods his head, his eyes lingering on a spot of skin that the blanket hadn't covered. Correction, his eyes lingering on _every_ spot of skin that the blanket hadn't covered. Her cheeks flamed a soft pink and she pulled the blanket up higher. He didn't make some snarky comment about how she was dressed and it's not like he hadn't seen it all before. They were _friends_, nothing more and nothing less. Her eyes spotted the present, and she lit up again. It was like watching a small child on Christmas morning, seeing all the milk and biscuits had been drowned. Her fingers itched for the present and she reached out for it like a little girl, opening and closing her fist.

"Give me." She ordered, he shook his head. A cruel smirk taking residence on his face, once more. She sighed and gave up, she didn't ever give up but she was dealing with a Bass.

"What does it feel like to be eighteen?" Chuck asked, an eyebrow raised in the air. Blair has to stifle a laugh, he knows as well as anybody that her real birthday isn't until next week.

"It's not until next week," She reminds him. He shrugs his shoulders, not really caring. Her hands moved out forward again, reaching for the present. Chuck hid it behind his back this time, shaking his head. A pout formed on her lips and she crossed her arms against her chest. Of course he wouldn't let her have the present. They sit in silence for a little while neither knowing what to say, all guards are down nothings been the same since, Blair gulps, since _last year._ The memory still burns in her mind, the way he touched her, the way he kissed her. It's been nearly a year now, nearly a whole entire year.

"How was the hockey game?" She asks quietly, wishing the images of him would go away. Of them. He shrugs his shoulders and stares off into space, trying to find the words to express it. He wants to say wonderful, brilliant, the best, magnificent and it was but he doesn't want to sound like it mattered all that much too him. He wanted to remain indifferent.

"Fine. Good." He finally replies. Blair doesn't comment on it, doesn't say anything more. He pushes the present towards her and her eyes light up with excitement, she tears open the present, slowly carefully. Not tearing the paper open, she picks up the box inside and opens it up. A small gasp escaping her lips, inside lays a pair of MCL by Matthew Campbell de Laurenza Earrings. They look beautiful and very, _very_ Serena. She decides not to comment on that but as Chuck watches her open the box his lips contort into a frown.

"Those aren't what I bought for you." He states. Usually she would demand for him to go and get her real gift but she brushes it off, she's in a good mood and so they make small talk instead until he leaves.


End file.
